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#?? i hope he sounds okay?

yellowocaballero · 1 year

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Is Dick Grayson a Good Person? Slade Wilson's Opinion Fails To Count.

“You realize that this frees you.”

“Gotham’s not a chain!” Dick snapped, before he even had the opportunity to control himself. “I put half my life into that city and I won’t abandon it just because everybody else in your stupid country has! It is a starving child, it is not a burden.”

Slade’s lip curled upwards. Dick wondered if he had fallen into a rhetorical trap. “Defensive. I was referring to your obligations towards the Batman.”

“Batman isn’t dead,” Dick said coldly. “You won’t get that lucky.”

“But you are far out of his reach.” Slade folded his arms on the table, eyes glinting. “As you said, there’s not much work you can do for him now. You’ve always found the task distasteful. The lying. Prioritizing Batman’s mission over the greater good. You can remove the mask you wear. However necessary the subterfuge was in the past, it’s hardly necessary now. You can do what you like. And you’ve never liked your job. You’re free.”

So I did that thing I always do when writing a bugfuck huge story and wrote a smaller story off it for fun. Normally I'd save this for much later, but this time I thought I'd be fun to post it before the main story and have it be a teaser. I think this very short slice of the universe must be really fun to read if you have no idea what the hell's going on!

I think by the end of it you can get a good idea of what's happening. This will be more difficult if you aren't familiar with certain Batman plotlines. This one requires some basic Teen Titans know-how to fully get, but I can offer a Cliff's Notes if requested.

Very short 5k mystery under the cut.

He was standing in the gift shop.

Just standing. He wasn’t scrolling on his phone or pretending to browse or doing anything that would keep him remotely invisible in the crowd of children. He stood in front of the back door to the gift shop that led into the main Tower building, hands in his pockets and aimlessly looking around. Zero fucking shame.

“Why didn’t he just call?” Gar hissed. “That’s why we have a phone. That is the purpose of phones! What’s his purpose? Annoying us to death?” He glanced back at Joey, who was looking thoughtfully at the screen. “Uh. No offense.”

“For the last time, please do not censor your words for my benefit,” Joey signed, eyes crinkling in faint amusement. “He’s a difficult person. Nightwing, I’ll go down and speak with him.”

Dick was too tired for this.

He hadn’t been sleeping well, or at all. Gigantic fucking surprise, that one. It was worrying Kori. She was looking at him now, with her eyebrows furrowed in that increasingly familiar way. She barely looked at him normally anymore.

For the five millionth time, Dick thought that he ought to break up with her. For five millionth time, he decided it wouldn’t be worth it. Maybe next time.

He adopted a Leaderly Thinking Pose anyway, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip. It was his genuine body language while he was solving a problem on the ground as Nightwing, but he had to force it now. He really just wanted to stare blankly into space now. “If he wanted to speak to you, Joey, he would have randomly showed up on your balcony.”

“He also never wants to speak to you!” Danny piped up. Pantha flicked him on the temple. “Ow! Child abuse again!”

Vic’s eye twitched. “No horseplay in my security booth, guys.”

“Oh, but horseplay literally everywhere else is fine?” Donna asked archly.

Gar grinned. “Horseplay? You call that horseplay? I can show you -”

“Do it and you’re dead, little man!”

“But I could be a little horse! Just a little one! Shetland pony!”

Dick was way, way, way too tired for this.

“If he had actually wanted to speak with us, he’d just show up.” Dick resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Standing in our darn gift shop’s a message. A ‘come out and play’ thing. It’s a…”

“Power play,” Donna sighed. “The Slade Wilson special.”

“Which means he wants to talk to me,” Dick agreed. He stepped away from the console, waving the sweaty young adults out of his way as they tried to make room in the overstuffed security booth. “I’ll be back.”

An awkward silence fell over the assembled group. Dick forced his way back into the hallway, leaving the others to trip over their feet and follow after him, but the sound didn’t obscure Panthera whispering a question in Gar’s ear.

“Uh,” Gar said, furry green ear flicking, “I’ll tell you later, yeah?”

“Oh! I know this one! I got it!” Danny thrust his hand in the air, ignoring Panthera grabbed him by his collar and physically towing him along. “Slade Wilson kidnapped Nightwing from the circus when he was twelve and taught him how to be a super-badass bounty hunter mercenary! But then Nightwing was like - no way, Jose, no mercenary looks this good in Spandex. Lookit my toned butt. So Nightwing made a break for it and decided to use his ill-gained skills in pursuit of heroism and justice and making me clean my room -”

“So if I look inside your room, it’ll be clean?” Donna asked mildly, and Danny froze. “If I go in there right now, it’ll be sparkling? Just like you said it was? Because if you lied, I’ll have to take you off -”

“Give me ten!”

That successfully got rid of Danny. Panthera obviously had a billion more questions, but after Gar whispered something back she nodded and peeled down the hallway in the opposite direction. Dick finally made it to their cavernous living space, stuffed full of couches and empty soda cans and video game systems. The familiarity and safety didn’t make him feel any less claustrophobic.

The Tower had been his home since he was eighteen. He had never moved out or gotten his own place, choosing to live on site like their more vagrant members. Nowadays he spent most of his time at Kori’s place, to the point where he might as well be moved in already - but the Tower was still Nightwing’s home. The Titans were still Nightwing’s family.

“Love, please wait,” Kori said, and because it was her he stopped.

He turned around to see his friends in front of him, and realized for the first time that they all looked worried. Kori, Donna, Gar - old and familiar expressions on their faces.

“I really hate that guy,” Gar muttered, glaring at the floor as his tail lashed. “How does someone get worse the less evil they are?”

“Somebody may be a ‘good guy’ and a bad person. Or somebody may be a ‘bad guy’ and a good person. Evil or good - I believe it has little to do with your character.” Kori turned to Dick, and Dick forced himself to meet her eyes. “Nightwing, you do not have to meet with him.”

“Kori, he’s not going to leave until I -”

Kori grinned. Like Gar baring his teeth was a grin. “I would enjoy the opportunity to remove him myself.”

“There’s no need for violence.” As much as he loved to see it in Kori, he would like to avoid traumatizing schoolchildren. “God knows I’ve talked to him enough times, one more won’t kill me. It’s the fastest way to make him go away.”

“That’s not the point,” Donna said sharply, crossing her arms. “You shouldn’t have to be left alone with the man who kidnapped and abused you as a child.” Dick flinched hard. “We’re your family, Dick. Let us protect you from him.”

Her words made Dick sick. He let them see it. They’d misattribute the emotion. They’d attribute anything to anything they wanted. And it wouldn’t matter if Dick had never said a word. That wasn’t what they would remember.

“If I have to hear the word ‘apprentice’ from his gross yellow teeth one more time, I swear I’m going to turn into a horse and bite him.”

Kori turned to Donna. “Please let me kill him.”

“Dick already said no.”

“We can all outvote him.”

“Joey would make that kind of weird, Kori.”

“Joey will live.”

“And Slade won’t!” Gar said cheerfully.

There was something Dick didn’t know how to admit. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. “He didn’t kidnap me and he didn’t abuse me,” Dick said evenly. Frustration flashed in everybody, even Kori, but the denials were important. The denials wouldn’t make them forgive him, but they would keep him out of any potentially illegal waters. Dick knew the value of a technicality. “I wish you guys wouldn’t make those assumptions.”

“Assumptions are all we have!” Gar protested, throwing out his arms. “You still haven’t told us anything! Like, you don’t have to, really, but - all we have are the weird scraps you drop, and the picture is super worrying. Everything you have told us is scary as hell. If we’re misunderstanding, then why can’t you just -”

Scary? Scary? They’d said it a hundred times, and he’d never disagreed - out of context, the way everything slipped out, he knew what it looked like, but even Dick wasn’t perfect and even that was too much to say. They’d said it a hundred times and it had never bothered him before, but today - now -

“Thank you for worrying, Gar.” Dick smiled, warm and sincere. “But I can handle one old friend. I’ll be back soon.”

“Love, I don’t -”

Dick cut her off by kissing her, and he left to get changed with no more fanfare. There would be no need to go downstairs and talk with Slade, or to coordinate a meeting place. They knew each other too well for that.

He didn’t relax until he was out of the tower in his civvies, the clothes that felt almost alien on him. The suit had felt alien on him for weeks. Everything was alien on him. Everything was alien - even his home, even his family. His world, shifted irrevocably to the right. The United States of America, two million people short.

Dick piloted the boat back to the mainland in silence. The boat had a video camera in it too, so he did nothing but stare at the waves.

The reserved room was under the last name ‘House’. Ha, ha. Never let it be said the man didn’t have a sense of humor. Dick was proof enough of that.

The Japanese restaurant was upscale, but it was their regular haunt. Slade was in Japan for business frequently, Dick had spent a vaguely traumatic but extremely educational summer studying under a master there, and Jump’s very sizeable Japanese population had resulted in some authentic restaurants with private back rooms for business deals.

Slade was already waiting, which was a surprise. Maybe he already had gotten in his power plays for the day. Unlikely. Normally he liked to make Dick wait twenty minutes. Maybe he had picked today to be unusually kind and considerate. Even more unlikely.

Without looking up from his phone - undoubtedly working, the man never stopped - he said, “The sake’s poisoned.”

Dick glanced at the innocuous bottle on the table and the two stacked bowls next to it. “My enemy or yours?”

“Mine. Don’t worry, they don’t know you’re here. I’ll resolve this after we’re done here.” He put his phone face down on the table, looking up at Dick for the first time. “You look quite well. Funny.”

“Let me guess,” Dick said wryly, sliding into the seat across from him, “you’re about to congratulate me on my lying skills again?”

“I’m hardly effusive with praise.” Slade reached into his jacket and pulled out his own flask, taking a bowl and sloshing a dark amber liquid onto the porcelain. “And I thought the term was ‘performance’?”

“Performance is the word for you this morning.” Slade held out the bowl to Dick, who held up a hand. Slade shrugged - your loss. “Was embarrassing me in front of the entire team really necessary?”

“Was it fun?”

“Are you an asshole?”

“It was a favor,” Slade said archly. He tipped the bowl into his mouth before setting it aside. “Which is why you’re here. Because you recognize the favors you owe me.”

“And you recognize the blackmail I have on you,” Dick said sweetly. Slade’s mouth twitched backwards a little. “I think last time we established quite well that we are at a standstill, Slade. What did you call it - an impasse?”

“If we are at an impasse, then why did you come?” Slade twisted the cap back onto his flask. Dick was silent. “Joey well?”

“Very. Talia?”

“Unhappy.”

“Unsurprising.”

“She asked me to check in on you,” Slade said lightly. “See how you were doing.”

Dick snorted. “Is that why you came?”

“Yes.”

Dick stopped short.

Slade half-smiled. Point to him.

Then there was a knock on the door, and when the waiter walked in Dick expected to be asked for his order or given a menu. He wasn’t expecting the waiter to bring the entire meal, including Dick’s order. Mapo tofu extra spicy. His favorite. That explains the power play. If it wasn’t obvious, then it was hidden. No situation in which there wasn’t a power play. Fantastic.

“Okay,” Dick said sourly, picking up his spoon. “So why are you actually here?”

“Don’t worry about the check, son. It’s on me today.”

“You are so divorced.”

“And you stink of orphan. Let’s move on from the obvious.” To Dick’s shock, Slade pushed away his own bowl of tonkatsu ramen - a working class dish for the high class man - and folded his arms on the table. He gave Dick his full attention, so heavy it could squeeze the breath from him. He almost never did that. Not outside of a fight, anyway. “How are you doing?”

Dick ate his tofu.

“There’s nobody else you can speak to about this besides me.”

Barbara. Who was even more distraught than Dick, and who Dick had been focusing on supporting instead of dumping onto. Who still believed in the police. In her father.

Alfred. Who was suffering enough.

“I’m not stupid enough to bare my neck to you,” Dick said quietly.

Slade leaned back, crossing his arms. “Vulnerability? You were flayed open to me many years ago, Dick. I have seen parts of you that even you have not seen.” Dick snorted softly. “Like will always recognize like. What’s a few words of frustration between an apprentice and his old master?”

Dick put his spoon down. Dick breathed. In one. Out two. In one.

“You don’t have to hold your temper, Dick.”

“I shouldn’t have come.”

“You knew you had to come,” Slade pressed. “You aren’t perfect. Nobody can hold all of this within themselves. You came because you needed to talk to somebody, and I am the only person in the United States of America that you can be honest with.”

“It’s ridiculous of you to act as if a lie entitles you to honesty.”

“I’m just trying to do you a favor, Dick. I’m the only person left who wants to help you.”

Dick breathed.

The first unexpected thing of the night happened. Slade sighed, rubbing his forehead in an exact mirror of Joey’s expression from earlier that day. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

Then he picked up his chopsticks and began eating. Dick and Slade ate together in complete silence. Somehow it wasn’t even that awkward. The food was good, and if you were in a room with Slade the ideal environment was silence.

He wasn’t halfway through his meal when he noticed that his hand was trembling. Dick watched it, detached and half-interested. That didn’t normally happen. He wasn’t feeling much. Certainly nothing intense enough to make his hand shake like this.

Slade definitely saw it, but he politely didn’t say anything.

He was halfway through his meal when he noticed that his careful breathing had gone off the rails. His breaths were coming in too hard, too fast. He was lightheaded. He needed to get out of this room. This claustrophobic back room in a Japanese restaurant under the name House, a grim fucking parody of his real home and family, eviscerated and dead.

Dick dropped his spoon. “I should go.”

He didn’t stand up. Slade ate his noodles.

“You did this after Jason.” Exactly this. He had done the exact same thing, down to the same restaurant. Dick hadn’t even registered. He didn’t remember the month after Jason too well. “You - you sat me down and told me that I could talk to you about it. You did, didn’t you?”

“Goodness, Dick, I wasn’t hiding it.” Slade blew on his spoon. “I remember finding it interesting. You and Joey couldn’t be more different. When Grant died, Joey only - well. Of course Joey didn’t say much. But I remember he just lay there in that hospital bed. Just staring out the window. I didn’t really know what to do. Let his mother take care of it.” Big-ass fucking shock, that one. “You, however - you, I knew what to do with. And you look exactly the same now as you did back then. Do you know who you look like, Dick?”

Dick didn’t say anything.

“You look like a man angry enough to strangle the world.”

Dick bit his tongue.

Slade looked back down at his bowl, sipping his broth. “Tell me about it.”

Bruce would be so fucking disappointed in him. But it wasn’t as if Bruce could know.

“I’m not like you, Slade,” Dick said. He forced himself to keep staring at the man instead of looking at the woodgrain like he wanted. Do not forget who you’re speaking to. Don’t let him win. Was this letting him win? Were there some battles he wanted to lose? “But I’m not like them either. They’re honest people. Their lives have been messy, and they aren’t always nice, and sometimes they don’t always do the right thing. But they are honest people. They’re guarded, but none of them are pretending to be something they’re not.”

“Are you?” Slade asked mildly. “You’re a hero. There’s no doubt about that. I believed that was the only qualification for membership into that club. Certainly not talent.”

“Yeah, I’m a hero. I’m a good person. I’m a leader, I’m a boyfriend. A son and a brother.” He would always be a brother. Jason could be dead for fifty years and Dick would still be his fucking brother. And Tim… “But I’m a soldier too. At the end of the line I’m a soldier. Which is why I’m out here playing video games and eating ramen instead of where I’m needed.”

“Batman needed his spy?”

Dick winced. He hated that word. Accurate as it was. “The world needed Nightwing. That’s what he said. I’m not much good as a spy right now.”

“You were always a very good spy,” Slade said lightly. “I couldn’t even get Terra past you.”

God. Terra. Dick had almost forgotten about that. Maybe in self-defense. “Terra was a rank amateur and a little girl. You’re disgusting, by the way.” Slade shrugged. Dick didn’t know what part of leading a gullible teenage girl into believing that you might fall in love with her if she did everything you said warranted a shrug. “So unless you have any more Terras or Amanda Waller has any more ideas, Gotham needs me more than the Titans do.”

“And yet here you are,” Slade said. “A soldier following his final order. No wonder you’re distressed. The only thing keeping you with the Titans are orders you don’t want to follow.”

“I was raised family uber alles,” Dick said lightly. His hand wasn’t shaking anymore, so he carefully picked his spoon up and started tucking into the tofu again. “Congratulations. You got what you wanted. Are we done here?”

“Are we?”

“I’m two seconds away from that sake.”

“Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, you wish.”

“We’re both well aware that I prefer you alive, Dick.” Great, that old power play - you’re alive only by my will! Just because it was true doesn’t mean he should lord it over him. Everybody Dick knew was alive because he wanted them alive, it wasn’t really something to brag about. “You realize that this frees you.”

Slade’s lip curled upwards. Dick wondered if he had fallen into a rhetorical trap. “Defensive. I was referring to your obligations towards the Batman.”

“Batman isn’t dead,” Dick said coldly. “You won’t get that lucky.”

Dick’s hand clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. He turned his attention back to his breathing again. In one, out two. Slade watched, amused.

It all flashed through his mind. The news coverage. Bruce’s face in that D.C. hotel room. The gossiping, the smiles. The Titans. The scorn.

They had been sympathetic. They were good people. Danny said a lot of callous shit, obviously. That kid needed therapy badly. Donna had tsk’d over it, Kori had solemnly proclaimed that it was the decision of a weak leader.

“That place is so scary,” Gar had said, shivering. “Gotham bad guys are bad guys on steroids. I can’t imagine being trapped in a city full of them.”

“And they aren’t even letting us do anything about it!” Wally had announced. That was what had really galled him - Wally hated inactivity. “Is this really the end of it? It’s so unfair.”

“There was no other outcome,” Vic had said shortly. He was the ‘cold hard reality’ one. “That plague could have swept the US. Shitty how we aren’t even trying to make a vaccine, but quarantining the place is the only thing that kept everybody else safe.”

“But to just abandon it!” Kori had said. “It’s too unfair.”

“Yeah, it’s fucked.”

“Well,” Wally had said, “nothing to do.”

“Nothing we can do,” Donna said.

“Gotta say,” Gar said, “kinda glad it’s not my problem?”

“With you there,” Vic said.

Raven had said nothing. Dick didn’t remember what he had said. He only knew that she had stared at him the whole time, and that he had to eventually force himself not to care. Raven had his number. She knew what a liar he was. She never told anybody. She’d kept every secret so far - she’d keep this one too.

Everybody had jumped to conclusions. Nightwing never said a word about why he had the skills and drive he had, why he chose their strange and unsettled life. The first person they see who really seems to know him is Slade Motherfucking Wilson, who won’t stop going on about their fated master-apprentice destiny. Who wouldn’t assume that they had a history? And wasn’t that a pretty fantasy too convenient to destroy?

Dick hadn’t lied about that. Slade had. Completely out of his ass, with full abandon. Gleefully. Called it a favor to him. Dick could do without his favors. Sometimes Dick wondered if he believed his own lies.

Dick didn’t have to say it. Slade knew. Slade knew full well, and he had only said it to make Dick see it too.

The mission was worth it now. It was worth it. The lying, the masks, the betrayal, their fake history - it was worth it and more. He couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything else.

“You can say it, Dick.”

Dick dropped his spoon, letting his fists clench in his lap.

“I already know. You can say it.”

Dick’s teeth grit together.

“I want to hear you say it. Admit it, Dick.”

Maybe Dick had been kidnapped by this man one too many times. Maybe hearing that tone of voice, a tone he only used when he had Dick at his complete mercy, ground against his mind at just the right angle and produced a spark. Or maybe Dick was just weak without Bruce - weak, when he was alone in the world - and he just wanted to say it.

“I want them to pay for this.”

Slade was polite enough not to gloat. God only knew he’d worked hard enough over the past five years to try and squeeze something half as cold out of him. “And you have to stay undercover to do so. Even now, when it’ll be more difficult than ever.” Dick nodded. “Revenge, then. What will that look like?” Dick shrugged. “You haven’t figured it out yet? Unlike you.”

“Hard to figure out something you don’t like admitting,” Dick said lowly.

“Sounds like I’m doing you another favor, then.”

“Sounds like you need to watch your mouth.”

Slade barked a laugh, making Dick roll his eyes. “Let me guess - you’ll rather die than accept my help?” Dick flipped him off, and he laughed again. “So be it, then. That’s a pity. I would have liked to know what your revenge would look like.”

“I can do it on my own,” Dick snapped, a second before he realized what that sounded like. “Christ, Slade, I’m not taking revenge on the United States. That’s supervillain behavior. I’m just -”

“Fantasizing about it?” Slade asked archly. “Thinking, dreaming, wanting? Not doing? It’s unlike you. You’ve always taken what you wanted.”

“Are you seriously trying to convince me to go supervillain right now?”

“Just trying to help.”

“Your help’s sh - not welcome, thanks.”

A dim, sunken light shone in Slade’s eye, and Dick looked away. He hadn’t allowed Dick to curse at him for those long two months. Knowing that shit from so long ago still stuck probably got him off. Asshole. Bastard. Fucker.

“It’s here if you want it,” Slade said. “It’s always been here. Just because you’ve ungratefully rejected it, thrown it back in my face, doesn’t mean it’s no longer here. For what it’s worth, I think you’re more than capable of the revenge you seek. If you’re actually willing to take it.” Slade angled his head down, one watery blue eye piercing straight through Dick. “Are you willing?”

Dick couldn’t breathe.

“My little brother is twelve,” Dick whispered hoarsely, and for once in his life Slade fell silent. “He is a little boy. And he is trapped in that city fighting Bruce’s crusade. If it doesn’t kill him it’s going to break him. And I’ll have lost two brothers in two years. Two kids. Because there’s ‘nothing we can do’. Or because ‘there’s only criminals left in there anyway’. Because of the greater good. Because some asshole in charge decided my family wasn’t worth a couple of bucks. Again.” Dick’s breath was coming hard and fast, and it took all he had not to fall. “I almost killed the man who did it. Bruce had to pry me off him and rip the knife from my hands. I can’t kill the people who did this. I would not do it. I can’t kill everybody who isn’t lifting a finger to help. That’d be - that’d be everybody. And I wouldn’t want to hurt them either.

“I keep on trying to think of a way to make sure that they wouldn’t get away with it. That the people who trapped Tim and ground Jason into poverty experience the consequences of their actions. But I can’t think of it. I don’t know how.”

Short of air-dropping them into Gotham. But that would just be murder. What with the rampant plague and everything. On top of the earthquake. And the riots. Jesus.

“You can’t,” Slade said simply, and Dick didn’t know why the words were crushing. Maybe it was just hearing them from Slade, of all people. “Those people pressed a few buttons and took a few bribes and ruined millions of lives. They will never face ramifications for that. You cannot bring justice for Gotham. The best you have now is payback. The best you can do is revenge. Is that good enough for you, Dick?”

Dick was silent.

And Slade just shrugged. He pushed his bowl away - when had he finished it? - and stood up. He reached over the table and picked up the small poisoned sake bottle with two fingers, tilting it gently back and forth. He put his hand in his pocket, angling his arm back just enough to flash his concealed gun.

“The person who ordered me the poisoned sake is sitting in a business meeting with his fellow executives. They’ve stiffed me on a payment and are trying to get away with it. Of course, nobody stiffs me and walks away. My life exists on a permanently balanced system. Everything in my life is fair. You should give it a shot. It’s quite pleasant.”

“I have better things to do with my time,” Dick said cooly.

“Ah, yes. We all best return to our lives. And you to your friends.” Slade walked past him, pausing only to rest his hand on Dick’s shoulder and bend down. His breath was hot on Dick’s ear, and Dick found himself freezing still. Another ancient reaction, persistently clinging. “Word of advice, Dick. Don’t tip your hand to your friends just yet. Your fight will only grow more complex from here. You’ll need as many allies as you can.”

Dick turned to look at him. His skin crawled at the smile on Slade’s face, at that familiar bristly stubble. Thank god Joey was identical to his mother. “Every ally I have?”

“Every one.”

They stared at each other, heavy and sour, and for the first time in a long time -

“Then I guess I’ll need all the help I can get,” Dick said softly.

Slade straightened, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Attaboy. Now, if you excuse me. Wait until the gunshots stop to come out.”

“You’re always taking care of me, Slade.”

“I told you I would,” Slade said loftily. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“No,” Dick said, “we’ve never lied to each other.”

Dick stayed seated in that room long after Slade left. He stayed seated through the murmur of voices, the first screen. They’d need to find a new meeting point.

A hail of gunshots descended over the restaurant, far away and close, and Dick finally broke into tears. Nobody could hear them over the sound of the shots, and nobody could see him in here, and nobody had to know.

He cried as long as the gunshots lasted and no longer. After ten minutes, he wiped his face and exited the room. Better hurry home. It was getting late.

They’d be expecting him.

#man sounds like tim might be in some trouble! hope he's okay ha ha ha #well we'll never know!#my writing #batfam #dick grayson #slade wilson #teen titans #I'm almost done with this bugfuck huge story #and I'm kinda worried cuz I still have to post the MK thing after Steph too #uhh yall gonna have scheduled Caballero fic every week for. a while. lmfao

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lulu2992 · 8 months

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They released a trailer for Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix yesterday!

youtube

More information about the series, notably the cast and characters, can be found here.

So it’s easy to guess who Dolph Laserhawk, Alex Taylor, Bullfrog, The Warden, Rayman, Jade, and Pey’j are in the trailer. As for the others, I’d say this is Red:

In this other trailer released three months ago, they had already shown this character, as well as five others who, I assume, are the rest of the Niji Six:

We also get a glimpse of (mutant) Rabbids and a mysterious character who seems to be an antagonist:

Then, this is Pagan Min (in this world, apparently having a… “bizarre adventure”):

And this is Marcus Holloway (he’s wearing a Watch Dogs pin and the first teaser trailer made it clear he’s part of DedSec):

Marcus also briefly appears at the very end of the video and he seems... not okay:

Anyway, I think this “remix” looks cool. It’s clearly not supposed to be canon to anything (maybe not even Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon) but it looks fun! It’s like “Ubisoft’s Suicide Squad: Multiverse of Madness” :’)

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fivewholeminutes · 9 months

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I've never really thought vessel is faking the crying, i mean. Imagine, for example, reliving what atlantic is about every time you sing it, impossible not to cry. But at the same time i was always happy for him when he managed to go through the set without his voice breaking in any of the songs. Idk, it just gave me a sort of relief that he might've been doing a bit better on that particular day.

#sleep token #been a few hours already since i've seen the messages and i am still not okay #like i've seen them in june and then 2 months later and you could feel the difference idk #maybe he was just less tired bc in june they were already touring for quite some time #and then they've had some rest before prague #but idk.#god i hope i don't sound creepy when i talk about it #i'm just feeling a bit better knowing that someone who has helped me a lot looks like he's feeling a bit better too

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starpros-sunshine · 8 months

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I don't know if I ever talked about this on here before but it's been on my mind from time to time and that is the idea that Wataru one time catches a really bad cold so he just avoids Eichi for the time being (Because Hey. Maybe. If you're sick with a bacterial disease that spreads really easily. Maybe try not to pass it on to the guy with the autoimmune disorder. Just a thought.) But he doesn't tell anyone about it because he's The Hibiki Wataru he doesn't get sick.

So the only ones who know about this are his roommates because it's kind of hard to hide this from people you share a room with especially if you stay cooped up in your room a lot to try not to infect others with your cold and also a runny red nose and a sore throat aren't really a good look on someone that's not the biggest fan of open vulnerability. (If you ask yourself why he would stay in his dorm I have no idea either my guess is the guy just doesn't have anywhere else to go on short notice it's not like he has a flat outside of ES or something so as long as I don't have that figured out he'll have to stay in the dorms)

And yeah no back to point do the gist of the thing is Eichi notices that Wataru tries to stay away from him and he does not know why and it makes him sad and kind of angry and because he's Eichi of course he wonders if it was something he did or if it was just Wataru finally realising that Eichi just isn't what he deserves or whatever else self depreciating things could cross your mind in a situation like this.

So basically then he goes to the first person he would think of to know if he did anything wrong in regards to Wataru: Rei. Rei is mildly confused but reassures him Wataru didn't say anything in that regard.

And this entire scenario just boils down to Eichi wondering why Wataru is avoiding him and thinking it's his fault so he goes around asking everyone he could expect a proper answer from without thinking to ask Wataru himself because a) he's avoiding him. Why would he risk making things worse? And b) it's stupider and funnier this way and this entire scenario is just me laughing at their communication or lack thereof completely ignoring the underlying issues that would've caused it. And I know this is dumb and stupid because everyone else in ensquare would need to be an idiot for this to work so I'm ignoring that bit as well and just regarding it as something that would be funny in theory but would never happen. Or actually youcan set this entire scenario at Yumenosaki and then it could make perfect sense this seems exactly like the kind of stuff to happen to dramatic highschoolers

#the whole thing would get resolved with Yuzuru and Tori just convincing him to vall Wataru and ask #and then Wataru tries to talk himself out of it but eventually has to concede because it's hard not to sound sick with a clogged nose #or a sore throat. or both.#and then Eichi is just very relieved he gets to keep his Wataru for a bit longer and doesn't have to worry about endong up a lonely widdow #or something like that yeah as said its silly and dumb but I've been thinking about it and giggling #and Keito would get to call both of them idiots too to make the whole thing even better #as a treat because he deserves it <3 #and this could be set early after graduation at the start of the whole ensquare thing #coild also work in a yumenosaki setting actually it could work even better in a yumenosaki setting #huh. might employ that lense there #nothing would change it would just makw more sense #also character wise I mean #should've put this in the post hut I'm too lazy....#yeah okay that must do the trick #fair enough at least I hope #wataei

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moonshine-nightlight · 2 years

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Don't Shoot the Messenger: Part Three

Despite how it might seem, being a messenger for the feared sea-demon pirate, Admiral Satrasi, infamous far and wide for having an entire fleet of raiding vessels who answer to him alone, is a relatively safe job. After all, no one knowingly crosses the Admiral. However, it appears the most recent captain looking to join his fleet hasn’t gotten that bulletin yet.

Fantasy, pirates, male monster x female reader, male demon, M/F, Part 3 of 9

Story Status: COMPLETE

AO3: Don't Shoot the Messenger Chapter 3

[Part One] [Part Two] Part Three [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven][Part Eight] [Part Nine - NSFW]

As if to soothe and remind yourself of where you are now, you dream of your first meeting with Satrasi.

You triple check your basket, wanting to make sure you’re leaving none of your precious few possessions behind in this barn, lost among the straw.

Mr. Herly had asked you for your help managing the animals and other household chores while his wife recovered from giving birth. Long days getting up early and working late, doing all manner of physical tasks, is hard, but having fresh food and a warm place to sleep is worth it. They don’t have much to spare, especially with the babe to account for now, and so soon enough they let you know it's time you moved on.

You check your clothing last, making sure you skirt and jacket are as clean as you can make them and your stays are as tight as they can be over your chest. One of the easiest ways to make you look younger is by keeping your chest as flat as possible. Folks are less wary and more sympathetic when they forget how old you were.

You’ve lived in this town your whole life, so everyone knows about the girl orphaned by tragedy—and you want them to keep thinking of you that way as long as you can, want to hold onto that goodwill, with a slight wariness like bad luck might be catching, for as long as can. Only trouble can come on the heels of them realizing you grew into a woman of marrying age—or more likely, bedding age—two years ago. Luckily, time is a slippery thing to keep track of and no one ever wants to believe its passing as fast as it is, especially not older folks.

Between the fact that you never grew overmuch and you do your best to keep looking as you always have, you hope to stay a child in everyone’s eyes as long as you. People underestimate a child, at least one as small, polite, and quiet as you, far more than they do a grown woman. Or at least they don’t think of you enough to distrust you. Just enough to think on how you might be useful to be worth some food. Then you move on to the next few who might be willing to feed you—and someone always needs help with something.

Not that you haven’t been thinking, more and more often lately, that it might be best to leave your town for good.

You’ve no permanent home, but you have hideaways you frequent: an overhang by the river, Old Man Mills’ outlying barns, ruins of the road lookout. Today, you head for the cave on the outskirts of town. Far from the river, but far less frequented, it would help you stay cool and had its own freshwater pool which made for a good respite from the sun and its heat.

With its spot by the road, it should also let you keep an eye on any comings and goings. People coming in are always worth giving the innkeeper a fair warning about so she could get the inn ready for guests. She might even need a hand taking care of them. If any townsfolk are heading into the city to trade, that might also be a chance for you to tag along to the large port city three days ride. You've been trying to familiarize yourself with it as much as you can before moving there permanently.

Unfortunately, the cave isn’t one you can stay in long term: too cold in the winter, not secure in the slightest—not to mention eventually your back starts to ache something fierce from sleeping on stone for too long. But it was a wonderful escape for a few days, to think by yourself and take stock of what you have, and you like to give yourself and the town a break from your presence so no resentment or annoyance starts to fester.

It’s a fine line to walk between helpful and pitiable orphan and troublesome, layabout beggar.

You’ve always preferred it on the edges anyways.

You duck off the road and head down to the cave, eyes sharp for any obvious foot traffic or signs someone else might have thought it a good place to camp out in. Nothing on the way down at first, but right by the entrance there are some odd tracks in the dirt, almost like large snakes. That’s enough to make you wary—there aren’t any animals of that sort around here and you’re fairly certain the forest demon that roams these woods is more deer- or wolf-like than snake-like. You’ve certainly no desire to disrupt them and so you wait in the shadows, listening and watching for any sign someone else might already be in your refuge.

When enough time passes, you carefully enter, ready to flee if a single thing looks out of place. Slowly your hackles lower as the cave looks as if it always has and no sound—not even of someone sleeping—reaches your ears. You perform your usual checks, storing your food only when you’re certain there’s no one here that might take it from you.

All you find is a rusted and bent belt buckle that looks weeks old. Maybe a traveler did take advantage of the cave rather than pay for a night at the inn and this is all they left behind. That's happened before.

Finally more secure in the knowledge you’re alone, you leave your jacket—once a few different threadworn blankets people had thrown out which you sewed together to help keep you warm— and your basket in an alcove invisible from the main cave and head for the pool.

The pool’s surface is as still as it always has been, reaching the back wall of the cave and obviously going deeper under the rock than you could ever swim. Every few years the young and brash remember this cave and try to dare each other to see how far they can get, see if they could find the secret room legend says holds treasure if only you could swim far enough, but no one ever has. You’re fairly certain the water never hits air again and you’re grateful when the others forget about the cave once again.

There’s a few small holes in the ceiling near the pool, enough to let a couple shafts of light in, but not big enough for anything else to come through. It gives enough light to the closest shore so to speak of the pool, helping to ensure you don’t just walk straight in. Besides, the water was dark enough even with that light, always so deep even this close to the edge. The light helps make it approachable enough for you to take a drink.

You lean down to do just that, cupping some of the cool, clear water and slurping, only for something to catch you attention. Is there something reflective in the water? You narrow your eyes and reach, carefully holding the edge of the pool with one hand as you plunge the other down. There’s a narrow shelf around the edge of the pool and the water goes up past your elbow before your hands close around something long and metallic, but pliable too. You frown as you pull back to sit on your heels, kneeling next to the pool to study your prize.

It's not quite a chain, almost a braid of silver. A lanyard of some sort? But why make one out of silver? Awfully pricey for a bit of flash. It doesn’t appear to be a necklace or bracelet–too thick for that and the wrong length. How would one even wear this?

“Is that my aiguillette?” an echo-y, wet, but deep voice makes you freeze, your head wiping up to try to discover the source of the sound. How could you have missed someone else being here? You’d looked everywhere. “Thought I’d lost it.”

Without realizing it, you find yourself staring across the pool to the back wall of the cave. Red eyes that glow with black pupils stare back at you from just over the water’s surface. They blink and you realize numbly that the creature has four of them, two smaller eyes without pupils at all are just off the outer corner of their primary eyes.

Demon, your mind instantly supplies.

The eyes move up, getting higher above the water for all it doesn’t so much as ripple at their movement. They move closer too, but you can’t find the energy to get up. You’re fairly certain it wouldn’t matter if you could. Demons are notoriously fast and strong. If this one wants to catch you, you're already caught.

A shaft of light finally illuminates more of them and your eyes trace over slick, gray skin and scattered clusters of dull red scales reflect some of the light. A brief glimpse of his facial expression seems amused more than anything, which you suppose is better than hungry.

“How about you hand that back over to me, hm?” he asks, coming to a halt about two yards or so away from the edge of the pool where you are. His eyes dart to where you have the silver braid clutched instinctively to your chest.

Silver’s worth something, even the town blacksmith would be able to give you good coin for it, not to mention a silversmith at the port.

You don’t hesitate in tossing it to him. Not only does it sound like it was his to start with and you’re no thief, but no bit is worth your life.

An arm reaches to catch it with ease, although… You frown. There’s a frilled fin coming from his forearm, but the skin of it looks dull and limp, almost fragile. When he moves forward just a little bit more, he ends up in a larger pocket of light. While he runs his fingers over the silver, you notice that all of his skin, or is it scales on a sea demon? look similarly dull and pale. Are they actually gray? Or some other color that’s been almost washed out?

“My thanks,” he says, and he sounds sincere enough under his amusement that your eyes snap back to his strange ones. He appears to be studying you with some interest and your skin prickles with nerves. You prefer to be below most people’s notice and this demon certainly is no exception. Still, you’re not certain fleeing is the right choice. What if that just makes him try to chase?

You can’t seem to look him in the eye for long without losing your sense of where you are, which scares you because you always keep your surroundings in mind. So you let your eyes trail down, noticing he’s not wearing a stitch as far as you can tell. Has he been back somewhere in the depths of the pool, of the cave, all these years? Wouldn’t the silver have been more tarnished? You’ve certainly never seen it before.

You narrow your eyes because there is a silent sort of movement in the water around his chest, as if he’s breathing heavily, but he doesn’t sound out of breath and you can see his face. You have to stop yourself from leaning closer, instead just squinting to try to make out… a glint of…teeth?

All of a sudden the image solidifies to you. He doesn’t have a large scar down his front: it's a mouth with almost metal teeth in it, opening and closing as it takes in water.

“No need to be so nervous,” he says, definitely entertained by your newly discovered fear likely evident by the goosebumps that spread to cover you. “You’re hardly more than a morsel.”

A shiver goes down your spine at his words, despite the fact that you do find you believe him. You can’t decide if you were wrong about him being hungry or not. Each second that passes without him attacking you helps ease your nerves.

When next you refocus on his face, he’s leaning a bit closer, his own eyes narrowed at you. “Do you speak at all, little bite?”

You flush and reply without thinking, “When the situation calls for it.”

He laughs at that, revealing pointy, bright white teeth. “Well said. What brings you to this lovely cave? I’ve been here for days with no visitors.”

“I should think not,” you say, adjusting your seat and interested in what he might reveal. Now that you’re fairly sure he isn’t going to kill you, you’re intrigued despite your survival instinct. “No one really comes here, except kids trying to see how far they can swim.” You nod towards where the pool goes under the rock wall. “Too out of the way for most townsfolk.”

“So there is a town nearby,” he says, seemingly to himself.

You frown. “What are you doing out here, if you don’t even know about the town?”

His smirk returns at your question. “Some folks managed to get the jump on me, intent on cashing in some bounty from the Governor based on their chatter.”

You don’t need to hear the rest. The Governor of your province doesn’t have an outstanding bounty for demons in general, so this one had to have done something to earn a bounty substantial enough to warrant someone going after him. He must be some sort of bandit or, more likely, a pirate given his nature.

Your eyes have continued to adjust to the light and his small movements so you give him another sweep as you think on his story. There it is—a gash on his shoulder you hadn’t noticed but now you can see is fresh. Something else on that same side of his torso also looks damaged, murky as your view is through the water.

“I assure you, they came out of the encounter far worse,” his voice has more of a hiss to it this time when it interrupts your thoughts. He doesn’t look defensive, but rather as though he doesn’t want you getting any bright ideas—as if you thought yourself able to take this demon on even if he’d been missing the arm entirely. You don't survive by fighting. You survive by not being noticed and by making yourself useful enough to outweigh any burden you cause.

“You’re stuck though, aren’t you?” you ask, feeling the truth in your words as you say them. Sea demons need the sea, although to what extent you’re not sure, and this pool is freshwater. The fight he was in might justify a brief rest to recover, but despite the lack of blood and his own admission to being here for a few days now, he’s not left yet. He isn’t doing too well either, he looks faded somehow or maybe even swollen? It's so hard to tell with the light and the water, but something isn’t right and he hasn’t left to make it right yet.

You’re always on the lookout for who best to offer your help to, an expert at determining who needs you enough to accept your aid and not chase you off. This water might be better than no water, especially after however long he was captured for, but it's not the sea.

He raises his brows at that and adjusts himself so he’s leaning on a stalagmite that reaches from down below to just barely breach the surface of the pool. “Is that so?”

“Sea’s more than three days' ride from here,” you say instead, answering his real question. “By road. Can’t get across the mountain without the tunnel on foot any faster.”

He hums thoughtfully at that, the sound resonating through the air and water. “I see.”

When he seems content to think over your words, you chance moving. Leaning to the right, you take the waterskin you have, filling it up, before leaning over to drink more yourself, never having truly satisfied your thirst before he spoke.

“Bold little creature, aren’t you?” he comments and your eyes move to meet his once more. You’re good at reading what people think of you, and while no one’s ever called you ‘bold’ before, you can tell he at least doesn’t think it bad thing. If anything, he seems impressed. No one’s ever been impressed by you before. “I think I might be offended, if you’re over your fear so quickly.”

You tilt your head to the side as you consider his words. “You already said you’d no plans to eat me. And if you wanted to, I doubt this distance,” you motion between you and him, “would cause that outcome to be any different. And I’m thirsty.”

He chuckles, the sound bouncing around the cave oddly. You’re not sure if he’s intentionally trying to be menacing. He doesn’t seem to be and, for whatever reason, it's not working regardless. You have long honed instincts about people and, for whatever reason, your nerves don’t rate him as a current threat. Dangerous because of what he is and how strong he is, but with no intentions of causing harm. Far better than the reverse.

He gestures back at the water and says, “Far be it from me to stop you, little bite.”

You blink once at him before taking another sip, slurping even louder than before, not sure what about him is bringing about this cheeky side of you. Maybe it's just that he’s the first person in a while that doesn’t seem inclined to take advantage of you right up until they turn you out.

After drinking your fill without further commentary, you look up to see he’s gone back below the water’s surface. You don’t see him again while you work on patching your clothes in the light by the cave mouth and taking time to enjoy the lack of back-breaking farm labor in the cool cave. It’s not until you eat supper and need another drink that he resurfaces.

You chew the bread in your mouth as he watches silently, as if he’s weighing you or his next few words with care. You glance down at your basket, at the food you have to last you the next few days and mentally tally up how much longer your supplies will last, even if you manage to gather some berries, if you have to feed him too. It’s hard to gauge height with him in the water, but he’d called you a morsel so you figure his appetite must be large.

“No need to fret, little bite,” he says, voice sounding even wetter than before, which you hadn’t thought possible. “I’ve no interest in pilfering your scraps. There’s food enough for me in the water.”

You blink and then lean forward to ask, “Is there?” This demon has no doubt managed to explore far further than anyone else from town has and you’re fascinated by what he might have seen. “Never seen any fish in the pool. There are only rumors of treasure so deep none can reach it.”

He smirks and says, “No treasure that I’ve seen, but there are some other pools, close but not connected, that I can move between.” He goes on to tell you of his exploration. You mostly let him talk, content to listen to his strange voice and hear tales. You feel the weight of his red, red gaze every time you ask a question. You wonder if he’s mesmerizing you—you’ve heard tell of sirens who can do that—but you don’t think that’s right. And why would he bother, even if he had the strength?

When he’s done talking about the caves and you’re done eating, he swims closer and asks about town. This is more the type of talking you’d expect, though he needn’t try to hypnotize you to get it—if that even was what he was doing.

It’s strange how comfortable you feel with him. You’ve never even met a demon or a pirate before, but maybe that’s part of it. Maybe it’s that you know how strong he is and so there’s no point in worrying about it. Maybe it's just that it is nice to be seen and not worry about the consequences. He’s so beyond this small town and its small minded people who will remember everything about you that you’d rather they didn’t and only half the things you wish they would.

Maybe it's just that he’s giving you a taste of the world beyond this town that appears more enticing by the day.

Without the need to watch yourself, leaning against the wall of the cave with your knees drawn up and your arms wrapped around them, you find your eyes constantly tracing his inhuman features. His eyes, the wild tendrils he has in place of hair, each new cluster of red scales that your eyes can find—all captivate you, so unusual and beautiful, but in a way you’ve never seen before. Even so, the more time you spend doing so, the more time you spend listening to him and talking with him, the more you feel a worry grow in the back of your mind.

Worry for him.

Because he is not well. The color of his skin looks more and more unnatural, the strange almost puffiness to his form, the way he looks almost squishy concerns you—he looks swollen. Even the way that strange mouth continues to heave in his chest.

“Little bite?” You blink, startled from your thoughts at his breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen. “I’ve a proposition for you.”

“What sort of proposition?” you ask, interested despite yourself. Even though you’d previously liked the lack of expectations, you know as well as anyone, when you need help, politeness or pride has no business being in the picture.

“You were right earlier,” he admits with a disgruntled frown, though you’re fairly certain it's with the situation he finds himself in, not with you. “I was held out of water entirely for too long and this freshwater is barely any better—with its own set of problems. If you can get word to my crew or even just you fetch me something to help me gather enough strength to leave this hole, I’ll reward you handsomely.”

You assume his crew is at the port and a minimum six day commitment to go there and back, regardless of your ability to find them, is a lot. As for supplies… “What sort of something?”

“Salt,” he says. “Sea salt preferably, but any salt will do. Three pounds of it, at least.”

While there’s certainly salt in the village, that would be a lot to go missing at once—for no one would sell you that much and you don’t have the money for it regardless. Trying to take some from everyone would be too risky as well. “I’d have to go to the port for that. I’d need money and food to get me there, in the least,” you point out.

He’s not thrown off by your request and nods. “I’ll tell you where the wreckage from my fight with my kidnappers is. They had a series of wagons and other supplies. Since they were avoiding towns, I bet no one else has found it yet.”

“How do you know I won’t just take that salvage and not the rest of your offer?”

“I don’t,” he says bluntly. “ Beyond that I assure you I can offer far more than such meager scraps, if you do take it.”

“What if I go through all this trouble and get back to find you dead or gone?” you ask, more to hear his response than because you think it’ll change your mind.

“That’s a risk you'll have to take,” he concedes.

You appreciate how up front he is as you continue to weigh the risks in your mind.

“I don’t work with people I don’t know,” you say, more out of habit than expecting anything in return.

“Name’s Satrasi,” he replies easily. “We’ve already been talking. What more do you want to know?”

As you say his name to yourself, realize you don’t need to know anything more about him, not really.

You’ve already made up your mind.

So you simply ask, “Where’s the wreck?”

Satrasi smiles.

[Part Four]

#my writing #story: don't shoot the messenger #don't shoot the messenger #story part #terato #exophilia #male monster #male demon #demon #reader #monster bf #osha compliant #okay #later than i wanted #but here's the first part of the flashback portion of this story #there will b two more flashback parts before we get back to 'present day' in the first two parts #you might notice satrasi sounds diff from the lovely pic literalnobody drew of him but thats just because he's not doing great right now #i hope you enjoyed their first meeting!

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liquidstar · 1 year

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new oc batch ready! 8 more of these guys lol. the whole deal with this set is they’re from the artisan guild- lunar flair! intentionally spelled like “flair” as in “style” or “a flare for ____” rather than “flare”

basically all the members of the guild are different kinds of artists with different niches (and varying degrees of diva-ness). it’s pretty easy to tell who does what based on the everything about them, but if you want more info their bios are still under the cut!

Name: Jupiter

Name Origin: The planet of course

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 52

Guild rank: Guildmaster

Weapon: Lightning rods

Ethos (Power): Gigantomachy. He can make himself (even more) giant

Flaw power is based on: His overly protective nature, especially where the guild is concerned.

Notes: Literally the nicest guy ever until you provoke him though

Name: Erinome (Erin)

Name Origin: A moon of jupiter, the exact meaning of it’s name is murky but it can refer to grace or purity

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 13

Guild rank: 2 star

Weapon: A Book.

Ethos (Power): Poetic Imagery. Illusions cast forth by his her poems that change the appearance of the physical environment

Flaw power is based on: Her escapist indulgence in fantasy

Notes: You know, like, the pen is mightier than the sword and all that.

Name: Pictor

Name Origin: The constellation meaning “painter”

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 23

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Giant paintbrush

Ethos (Power): Ardor. He can create three-dimensional things with his paintbrush. However they are not animate or alive.

Flaw power is based on: His conceited nature in regards to his own work.

Notes: Goes to museums to talk about how he could probably do it better anyway

Name: Oberon

Name Origin: A moon of the planet Uranus, it gets it’s name from the king of the fairies in Renaissance literature. Notably in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 29

Guild rank: 5 star

Weapon: Rapier

Ethos (Power): Fantasia. An illusion of changing his own appearance.

Flaw power is based on: His theatrical nature, of course

Notes: Why is he ourple?

Name: Syrma

Name Origin: A star in virgo, it’s name refers to the train of a garment (Typically worn by actors in tragedies)

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 25

Guild rank: 4 star

Weapon: Giant needle

Ethos (Power): Binding threads. She can create stitches on any solid objects and bind them to each other. Including people- The stitches are manifested energy and do not hurt.

Flaw power is based on: The dependency she often has on bonds- i.e. threads that bind people.

Notes: She makes and models all her own clothes.

Name: Parumleo

Name Origin: A star in Pisces, it’s name means “small lion”

Pronouns: They/he

Age: 19

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Microphone bardiche

Ethos (Power): Persuasion. If they can make you laugh you’ll temporarily have to follow his orders. Though it’s too weak to call full-blown mind control, and fairly easy to snap out of.

Flaw power is based on: His desire to be liked by others.

Notes: They’re like a lolcat. They can haz cheezburger.

Name: Leda

Name Origin: A moon of jupiter, the name means swan.

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 28

Guild rank: 4 star

Weapon: Duel ribbons

Ethos (Power): Poise. Complete and utter weightlessness.

Flaw power is based on: Her carefree and utterly absent-minded nature.

Notes: You guys know swan lake right? Well, there ya go.

Name: Styx

Name Origin: A moon of pluto that gets it’s name from the river of the underworld. Yeah it’s also a rock band.

Pronouns: She/they

Age: 20

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Axe-guitar.

Ethos (Power): Vibrato. Powerful soundwaves cast by her axe-guitar

Flaw power is based on: Her brash and blasé attitude

Notes: Calls everyone “baby” or “babe” because they’re a cool rockstar.

#finn's ocs #oc references #finn's art #YAY i finally get to post my funny little artist guys #i feel like its fairly obvious what each persons gimmick is but just for the sake of brevity (for anyone who doesnt wanna read the readmore)#in order #jupiter doesnt have a Specific art bc hes the guildmaster and you can think of him as more of a teacher of sorts #erin is a poet/writer. pictor is obvs a painter. oberon is a thespian. syrma is a seamstress #parumleo is a comedian. leda is a ballerina. and styx is a musician (or straight up rockstar)#since these characters are all like.. trinary characters they dont go all Too much deeper than their gimmicks #but thats why theyre fun to design bc its like. what if [thing] was a guy LOL #also i wanted to try some new stuff out w their designs (like syrmas dimples for example) so i hope they look okay? i hope so...#also leda and how shes literally the least clothed character ive ever made. shes going to catch a cold for sure yeah #parumleo i worry about bc i had a fairly similar color pallet for asterope (but no red) so i hope he still stands out. the lolcat....#oh also if erin and oberon's powers sound similar that's on purpose too. shes like his protege #i feel like out of all of them though pictor is like the prime example of guy who should be in an artist guild LOL #like the most archetypal. most ppl think of painters when they think of artists #but i wanted different types in there too.#painters writers actors even funnymen and rockstars. they all belong. theyre all weird about creating #anyway im glad i can finally post them now ^_^

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seldomsee · 6 months

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I do think reactions to the Togashi interview are a LITTLE overblown given the ending that was revealed was apparently scrapped a while ago (presumably because it’s bad) & is only there just in case but the whole situation is just so weird. If you yourself don’t like this ending why don’t you just…keep notes on one of the endings you do like..?

#complaining abt the ending that was revealed aside i AM intrigued by the ending he said most people won’t like #but that he himself likes the best. it sounds like it would be the most interesting ending and i hope he goes with it #i hope he’s okay though…the fact that he even felt the need to do this….

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biblionerd07 · 3 months

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I actually had more sympathy for Jesse’s parents on this rewatch. Like overall they’re not some abusive monsters who never cared about him. They very obviously DO care about him. Their house felt safe enough to Jesse that he went there when the meth had him feeling paranoid and strung out. When Jesse calls his dad after being questioned by the DEA he mentions getting a job “in data entry, like we talked about”, and Jesse’s mom says “I can’t do this again”, and Jake says Jesse’s all they ever talk about, so they’re obviously in a cycle of trying to help Jesse and seeing him go back to drugs. It’s easy for us to kind of forget the ramifications, because of the scope of the show and because we love Jesse and are seeing his POV and definitely because Aaron Paul’s teeth and skin are nice lol, but Jesse is addicted to crystal meth. And he’s SELLING crystal meth! This is not just weed. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. And his parents talk about getting him help, and they let him come inside and sleep and eat a few meals and wash his clothes. Maybe you could consider that the bare minimum, but it is something. When Hank is talking to Jesse’s mom, she’s not dismissive of Jesse or uncaring. She’s obviously very sad about the state of Jesse’s life, and when she starts to clock that Hank’s investigating Jesse, she gets protective and makes Hank leave. They evicted Jesse from his aunt’s house, but to give them a bit of grace, his mom did find his literal meth lab in the basement lmao. Which they threatened to tell the DEA about but never actually did. They seem to be in that place with an addict where you’re trying to balance giving support without enabling; his dad even says they need to try tough love. (Personally I think it shows they don’t really know Jesse all that well because tough love is not the right method for him, but they probably feel like they’ve tried everything else.) When Jesse’s talking about that perfect box he made in shop, his initial lie is that he gave it to his mom, and when he tells the truth it’s clear he really regrets that he didn’t actually do that. In El Camino, I really think they want him to turn himself in because they think he’ll be safer and maybe they think he’ll get some leeway if he turns himself in rather than getting caught. It doesn’t seem like they call the cops when he calls and asks them to come get him; they rush out right away and all the police are in regular, unmarked cars.

But….

I can never give them grace or forgive them for that car decal that was Mom, Dad, and Jake but no Jesse. Like what the hell is that?? And it seems absolutely outrageous to me that his parents, with everything that happened between them and everything they’re seeing on the news, took the opportunity to talk to him and only said “turn yourself in.” No “I love you.” No “be safe.” His dad saying they hadn’t talked to him in a long time, since “way before all this” really rankled, too. They purposefully distanced themselves from him. They made sure to say on the news that they’re not involved in this because they’re not in his life. I really do think they cared and were scared for him. But at every turn it just seemed like they didn’t care enough to actually understand what he needed or how to get through to him.

#brba #jesse pinkman #el Camino #he really tries to keep Jake from following his path and oh my heart #I’ve always read Jesse as probably having undiagnosed or at least untreated ADHD #we know he’s so much smarter than anyone gives him credit for but he kept getting ‘apply yourself’#he has to care about things to do them well #anyway my tragic baby boy #i love him with my whole heart #and I’ve always hated his parents but as I get older and rewatch I have more sympathy for them #I doubt he ever went to rehab before but they certainly couldn’t have afforded a place like he goes to ever Jane dies #plus he wouldn’t ever go before #he really only went after Jane bc he was so catatonic with drugs and grief that I imagine Walt literally just dropped him at the door #his dad sounds happy when he says ‘you look good’ when he sees Jesse after rehab but he’s still cautious #god I wish he would’ve just said yes Jesse come over for dinner tonight #I hope someday Jesse was able to find a way to get word to them that he’s okay #nothing they can trace to find him #but just to let them know #it always seemed like his mom cared more despite that slap #his dad wanted to be tough but I don’t think his mom did #and I’m not saying Jesse turning to drugs or any of this is their fault obviously #it’s just very sad

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starflungwaddledee · 4 months

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Ok, for an AU I'm cooking up, what if my OC Periwinkle (who is actually a fragment of Void Termina's power with the full extent of their memories and abilities, though they are nice, until you physically smack/smack talk/hurt the feelings her friends out of malice (she's able to sense emotions), then she will not hesitate to bonk you with a live explosive (expert with the Bomb copy ability) and "give you a proper lesson on not hurting my friends".) met your Galacta Knight? How would the situation play out? (Maybe Galacta comes to her universe then destroys her friend's cooking utensils, and she decides to spare the vandal no chill at all.)

hmmm i'm not suuuper comfortable answering questions like this, sorry! especially with folks who i don't know well... i don't really know your oc and i'm also not comfortable just being like "well he k-words (the oc)" to strangers who might not find that fun, yanno?

i think you'd have to characterise him in a way that suited you and your story/oc/au/needs, and then decide from there! like... what you described with the cooking utensils... no, my version of him wouldn't do anything like that haha. so you'd need to make your own charactisation where something like that worked!

i'd enjoy being That Person With The Evil Galacta Knight Characterisation and i'm happy to answer general questions about my personal hcs of him for sure, but i certainly don't have any sort of monopoly on making him nasty. i feel like there's actually a significant amount of evidence in canon itself for him to be Not Nice! so you can of course characterise your own version of him however you like too!!

the galacta knight that i personally headcanon (who is mostly present in awtdy au) is simultaneously chill and unchill. if someone minds their business and doesn't get in his way or interrupt his plans- which revolve around kirby and meta knight in awtdy au- he doesn't really care about them. this is kind of evident in the way he overlooks bandee's potential entirely.

however if they are a threat to him or his plans, he deals with them. he also sometimes takes a sadistic interest in figures he can project the things he hates onto. in our headcanons in particular he has a specific hatred of dark matter and mages, if that works for you and gives you anything to chew on! fwiw in the star allies arc of awtdy void termina is never released, because galacta knight lays eyes on hyness for 0.2 seconds before fileting him like a fish.

he's just not really a hesitater. and that takes most folks- who want to talk, who want to monologue, who maybe have the hope this can be sorted out- by enough surprise that he generally gets in there first.

#i answered that other ask bc i thought it was broadly comedic in tone and figured it was proooobably okay to declare that he killed --#another iteration of *himself* in cold blood. i'm not going to make that claim with folk's ocs or sonas. that's the part i'm uneasy with.#that said i do always enjoy hearing about ocs and aus and stuff in general! periwinkle sounds a lot of fun!!#please be aware that most asks that ask me “what would your evil galacta knight do with X problem or person” it is most likely #1) he doesn't care or 2) he kills them. there's little in between. sorry if that's not fun!!#also i say “mostly" in awtdy au because he might.... he might appear in starstruck's story as well #as a t(h)reat.#if you noticed those last 2 tags congrats but also sorry!!! 😃👍#asks #galacta knight #also bc i'm overthinking this now i hope this doesn't come off as rude!! i'm just a little uncomfy speculating with other folks ocs!#even with permission. if i don't know you and your oc well it's just hard for me!! interactions or qs about starstruck in this scenario--#would be easier bc she's not... idk. she's not going to behave in an unforgivable way you know!!! she'd apologise to the kitchen utensils!!

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